Like a postcard of the Big Apple sent to a relative or close friend, Whitehead writes about the ordinary and everyday events, people, and places that make up the nation's largest city. He offers a look at life commuting among the teeming masses of people that spill into and out of the boroughs by bus each workday. Whitehead waxes poetic about such landmarks as the amusement park at Coney Island, the Brooklyn Bridge, and Broadway. He puts forth images of joggers, picnics, and kite flying in Central Park enjoying the respite from the stress of big city life.
But make no mistake about it the author has a love-hate relationship with the city of his birth. He tells about it all leaving nothing out; included are the drug dealers and surly pedestrian foot traffic, loudmouthed cell phone jerks and grimy sidewalks. But he looks beyond the surface of the city like he is peering into a pool of water, seeing the beauty beneath the outer layer. His admiration and amazement for New York in all its glorious, dirty, crowded, fast paced splendor shines through.
This report prepared by David Fletcher